


The Best Kisser

by CelesteFitzgerald



Series: Mimi's 12 Days of Christmas: 2019 Edition [1]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: First Kiss, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21802189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelesteFitzgerald/pseuds/CelesteFitzgerald
Summary: Late one night - after having abittoo much to drink - the Beatles get into a debate over which one of them is the best at kissing. Three of their answers are predictable - Ringo's is not.
Relationships: Paul McCartney/Ringo Starr
Series: Mimi's 12 Days of Christmas: 2019 Edition [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571074
Comments: 7
Kudos: 66





	The Best Kisser

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Iamonly17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iamonly17/gifts).



The tour was wild. The constant whirlwind of fans and shows and traveling was overwhelming, and Ringo just needed a break—they _all_ needed a break.

Which was how the four of them wound up hiding out in the bathroom of their hotel suite, drinking and smoking and laughing until they were practically crying. They were all exhausted, but not nearly tired enough to sleep, even though it was long past midnight and they had an early wake-up call the next morning. Brian would surely be disappointed to hear that they had forgone precious hours of sleep to debate over which one of them was the best kisser.

…They had had a _lot_ to drink.

“No, no, no,” Paul said, “I’m telling you, I _really_ know how to work my mouth.”

“Oh, piss off,” John said, shoving Paul’s shoulder. “There’s no way any girl would pick your dainty little lips over mine.”

“Really?” Paul asked, leaning toward John in a manner that was probably supposed to appear intimidating, but ended up looking more like he was too drunk to hold himself upright.

John leaned forward as well. “Really.”

“Huh,” Paul said, tapping a finger against his chin. “If you’re really such a good kisser, then why have I had more girlfriends than you?”

“Maybe because _I_ know how to keep my women satisfied,” John retorted.

Ringo let out a very long “ _ohhhh_ ” as he high-fived John and Paul watched on with a pout on his face.

“What about you, George?” Paul asked, taking the attention off himself. “Who do you think is the best kisser?”

“Me,” George said.

John and Paul both laughed at that.

“What the hell are you laughing at?” George asked. “All the girls I’ve kissed have said I was great.”

“They actually told you that?” John asked skeptically.

“Yeah, didn’t you know?” Ringo chimed in. “He makes them take a survey—‘ _On a scale of one to ten, how good was I?_ ’

John erupted into laughter again.

“I’d get a perfect ten on my survey,” Paul muttered.

John didn’t seem to hear him—he ignored Paul completely and turned toward Ringo instead. “Your turn,” John said. “Who do you pick, Ringo?”

Ringo took another swig of his beer, then said the first thing that came to his mind. “I think it would be Paul.”

His answer was met with silence from the others. Then, finally, John spoke. “You’re crazy. There’s no way Paul’s a better kisser than I am.”

Ringo opened his mouth to defend his choice, but Paul spoke first. “You think it’s _me_?” Paul asked quietly, a faint hint of pink on his cheeks.

“Yeah, _Paul_?” George asked. “You’d pick _Paul_ over yourself—or over me?”

“Well, yeah,” Ringo said, glancing between his three bandmates. “He has really nice lips.”

John laughed so hard he ended up lying face down on the floor. “‘He has nice lips?’ You wanna snog him yourself or something?”

“What, you don’t think his lips are nice?” Ringo asked, starting to get a bit angry that John thought that kissing Paul would be such an awful thing.

“Why do you think my lips are nice?” Paul asked.

“Hm,” Ringo said, scooting toward Paul. “I like the little dip you have in your upper lip,” he said, resting his fingertip on Paul’s lip. “It makes your lips look like a little heart,” Ringo added, tracing a heart shape around the outside of Paul’s lips.

John just kept laughing while George rolled his eyes and muttered, “Oh my god.”

It wasn’t until Ringo felt Paul’s breath against his hand that he realized he was still touching his lips. Ringo cleared his throat and moved back to his original spot on the floor.

“Okay…okay,” John said between laughs, “what the hell does that have to with how good he is at kissing?”

“God, I don’t know,” Ringo said. “Why are you taking this question so seriously? I thought we were just killing time.”

“Speaking of time,” George said tapping his watch, “it’s getting late.”

“ _Getting_ late?” Ringo repeated. “It’s been late for hours.”

“Fuck, it _is_ late, isn’t it?” John asked, grabbing George’s wrist to look at his watch, apparently forgetting that he was wearing a watch of his own. “We should get to bed before Brian murders us—c’mon, George,” John said, standing up and dragging George behind him so they could stumble back to their bedroom together.

Ringo sighed. “Well, Paulie, we should probably get some sleep ourselves,” he said, getting off the floor and stretching his legs.

Paul stood up and followed him back to their bedroom, but he stayed strangely silent. Taking a seat on the side of his bed, Paul looked down at the floor while Ringo was about to undress for bed.

“Hey, Ringo?” Paul asked as Ringo finished removing all his rings.

“Yeah?” Ringo asked, walking to the other side of the room to lean against the wall in front of Paul.

“Did you really mean all that—from the bathroom?”

“Well, yeah,” Ringo said, trying unsuccessfully to make eye contact with Paul. “Your lips look very good.”

“Hm,” Paul said. “And…you think I’d be the best kisser out of us?”

Ringo laughed. “I mean, I can’t exactly _prove_ it, but out of the three of you, you’re the one I’d want to kiss the most.”

Slowly, Paul looked up. “Really?”

Ringo nodded.

Paul stood up and took a step toward him. “You know,” Paul whispered, “out of the three of you, I’d like to kiss you, too.”

Laughing again, Ringo said, “I’m flattered, but I think you’re overestimating my kissing skills…”

Paul stepped closer.

“…Oh.”

Paul closed the distance.

When their lips met, Ringo acted on instinct—his eyes closed, his arms wrapped around Paul’s back, he pulled him closer. He had been right—Paul was a _great_ kisser. Their lips moved together perfectly, and when Ringo slid a hand down to rest against Paul’s hip, Paul let out a delicious little noise that made Ringo smile into the kiss.

His smile was mirrored on Paul’s face when they finally pulled apart. Ringo raised his hand to brush his thumb across Paul’s perfectly shaped, perfectly smooth, perfectly _perfect_ lips.

“So,” Paul said after Ringo had lowered his hand, “if you had to pick again, would you still say I’m the best kis—”

“Shut up and kiss me again.”

**Author's Note:**

> The first gift in a series of Christmas gifts for a wonderful friend of mine who loves some McStarr <3


End file.
